


Any Questions?

by jooliewrites



Series: Season 2 Coliver Codas [8]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: (its really not a lot - more than anything I want to tag for people to avoid if need be), Coda, Episode Related, Episode: s02e08 Hi I'm Philip, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Very Minor Exhibitionism, Very Minor Vouyerism, or maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5211149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, Mr. Hampton,” Connor says through a grin as he props his head up with a hand. “Any questions on the material covered today?”</p><p>His pulse is still pounding through his veins and he hasn’t quite caught his breath yet but Oliver still chuckles. “Maybe a few,” he says. </p><p>+</p><p>A 2x08 Coliver Coda</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Questions?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/post/133162823428/a-coliver-2x08-coda-note-gets-very-very-slightly).

“So, Mr. Hampton,” Connor says through a grin as he props his head up with a hand. “And questions on the material covered today?”

His pulse is still pounding through his veins and he hasn’t quite caught his breath yet but Oliver still chuckles. “Maybe a few,” he says.

“Really?” Connor lets the word drag out and his grin spreads even wider. He trails a hand down Oliver’s side and over his stomach, his fingertips lightly dancing over the skin. “You didn’t think the lecture was thorough.”

“Oh no. It was very _thorough_.” Oliver bites his lip a little, trying to go for coy but he’s smiling too much wide for it to really land. “I just still have some questions. Some…details that we might have to go over it again.”

“I can see that,” Connor concedes. His fingers pass over Oliver’s chest and Connor pauses to press his hand flat against Oliver’s heart to feel it beat against his palm.

Oliver lifts a hand to brush the hair off Connor’s forehead. “Maybe it’s something we could discuss in office hours.”

“Office hours?” Connor repeats in disbelief. When Oliver just nods, Connor busts out laughing, his head falling down on Oliver’s shoulder.

“What?” Oliver asks, suddenly doubtful. He thought he understood the game they were playing but now Connor’s laughing so hard he’s almost crying.

“Nothing. It’s just… _office hours_ ,” Connor manages to get out through through the laugher.

“Why is that funny?” Oliver demands. The doubt is gone from his voice only to be replaced by a twinge of embarrassment.

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry. It’s just-” Managing to quell his giggles, Connor props his head back up with a hand. “It’s just…” Whatever excuse or reason Connor’d been prepared to give fled from his mind when he looked down at Oliver. Oliver, lying there on Annalise’s desk, looking happy and sated and _safe_. “I love you,” Connor whispers. He still isn’t quite used to saying it yet.

Oliver grins wide but he has to tease a little. “You’re changing the subject.”

Connor shrugs. “Maybe just a little.” Then, just to make sure, he says, “But I do, you know.”

“I know.” Oliver runs a thumb along the coarse hair on Connor’s jaw. “I love you too.”

Their kiss is slow and warm and Oliver hums in contentment when Connor pulls back.

“So,” Oliver turns his head, pressing an ear to the desk, and looks around the lecture hall. “This is where you run off to on Tuesday mornings.”

“Yep.” Connor nods. “This is it.”

“Where’s your seat?” Oliver asks, shifting to look at Connor.

Connor just shakes his head in disbelief. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want the visual,” Oliver explains. “Now tell me where you sit.

“I’m not going to-”

“Connor. Tell me.” Oliver gives him a hard look, which Connor ignores. Not that he’s bragging but Connor’s gotten very good at ignoring Oliver’s looks lately if he does say so himself.

“Connor,” Oliver tries again. “Tell me where you sit or I’m going to guess.”

“Ollie,” Connor begins.

“Okay. So, it’s not in the front,” Oliver muses as he sits up.

“Why isn’t it in the front?” Connor asks with fake offense.

“Because, you’re too cool for the front. The front is for nerds,” Oliver explains, swinging his legs to hang over the front desk. Connor shifts so they’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. “If I were in this class, I would be in the front.”

“You aren’t a nerd,” Connor says.

“I’m a little bit of one.” Connor wants to argue the point but Oliver’s already moving on. “Okay. So not the front but also not the back.”

“Why not the back?” Connor asks for no reason at all. He just wants to hear Oliver’s reasoning.

“Well, the back is for people who don’t care or people who want to hide.” Oliver levels Connor a look out of the corner of his eye. “You do care, even if you like to pretend you don’t. And you certainly don’t want to hide. So, that just leaves the middle. And…” Oliver surveys the two wings of the classroom. “I’m thinking you wouldn’t want to be on the edge so I guess you sit around there.” He waves a hand over the seats in the middle of the room. “A couple rows up, Annalise’s eye-line. You want her to see you but you don’t want necessarily want her to call on you every time.” Oliver turns expectantly. “How’d I do?”

“Pretty good,” Connor admits. “But I gotta admit, we have assigned seats.”

“Oh.” Oliver looks slightly crestfallen. “But still, I did good.”

Oliver shoots Connor a slightly dopey smile and Connor can’t help but smile back. He reaches out, cautiously, and twines Oliver’s fingers with his. Why does something as small as _this_ feel so much more intimate than what they’d been doing on this desk a half-an-hour ago?

“Well,” Oliver says after a beat. He squeezes Connor’s hand in his and then waves the other out over the rows of empty seats. “Go show me.”

“Are you-?” Connor starts to protest when Oliver slips his fingers free and gently shoos Connor off the desk.

“Yes I am. Now go,” Oliver insists.

With a huff of righteous indignation, Connor rounds the desk to pick up his boxer briefs and undershirt. He’s _not_ sitting in that seat naked. Slipping on both articles of clothing, he walks up the stairs to Oliver’s left and takes his seat, just as Oliver predicted, in the middle a few rows up from the front.

“There,” Connor calls down as he sits. He stretches his legs out and crosses them out on the seat backs in front of him. “You happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Oliver calls back.

Then, on the desk, Oliver lays back out. He shifts his body, turning to make sure Connor sees exactly what Oliver wants him too. He arches his back a little and then lets his head and shoulders fall back heavy. He trails fingertips through his hair, down his neck and chest, circling one nipple while pitching another. Oliver runs the flat of his hand across his stomach and smiles when he hears the catch of Connor’s breath echo through the room.

“Oliver.” The word is almost a warning, almost a plea. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Oliver answers as his fingertips ghost over his thighs and stomach and cock. “Nothing at all.”

When he hears Connor’s breath catch again, Oliver bites his lip hard to hold back the smile this time. He never thought he’d like this, Connor watching him like this, watching as Oliver touches himself, but there’s a power to it. A freedom. Oliver closes his eyes and arches back again to revel under Connor’s gaze. It’s too soon for anything to happen but still it’s heady this feeling, this rush. Sensual. Addicting. Exciting.

With his eyes still closed, Oliver hears the snap of the desk chair closing and Connor’s bare feet slapping against the stairs. Oliver chuckles and it rolls out low and dark.

Climbing on the desk, Connor takes Oliver’s wrists and presses them down on the desk over Oliver’s head. “What are you doing, Mr. Hampton?”

“Nothing at all, Mr. Walsh.” Oliver bites his lip and Connor squeezes his wrists once.

For a beat, Connor breaks and takes in the picture of Oliver under him, naked and tempting and playful. “How am I ever going to focus on school in this room ever again?”

Oliver snorts once at that. “I have no idea.”

“Me neither,” Connor whispers before crushing Oliver’s lips with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


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